


There will be no drowning

by cucumber_of_doom



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #RudeTrip Fest, Gen, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:23:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8187733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cucumber_of_doom/pseuds/cucumber_of_doom
Summary: Will did not expect their escape plan to involve a boat.Hannibal did not expect to be forced to wear a life jacket.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic did not get as much editing as I would have liked to finish it in time for the #RudeTrip challenge.  
> I also apologize for any misuse of nautical terms, please correct me if I got anything wrong.

The boat was a surprise, Will thought, as he watched the shore grow more and more distant and fuzzy and finally disappearing from sight. H closed his eyes, turned his face towards the rising sun and breathed in the salty air. After weeks of altering between bed rest and painkiller-fueled physiotherapy exercises, feeling wind and saltwater spray on his face was heaven.

For the moment he was alone in the cockpit, having sent Hannibal below deck to rest once the left port and he could do without the extra pair of hands. He knew what he did; they would be fine and once they reached international waters, Will would be able to let some of the tension go that kept humming through his body since the moment he had stopped the car where Hannibal had navigated him from the passenger seat before dawn. There, tied up in a small, private and suspiciously unlocked marina, had been the boat, waiting for them. 

They had gotten out of the car - Will easier than Hannibal – taken their bags out of the trunk and went on board.

Will had walked through the cabin in a haze, checked their food and water supplies, checked the boat for any obvious faults without finding anything amiss. The cabin was roomier than one would have expected, but the interior was practical, their stored filled with canned vegetables and meat. Practical, things that kept for a long time. Not Hannibal’s style at all. Will suspected Chiyoh, despite not having seen the woman around, maybe for the better. He had no desire to meet her again, despite being grateful for the help she undoubtfully had been to them. If she had ever visited the cabin Hannibal and he had recovered in, she had been tactful enough to avoid Will.

He did not have to ask if this had been planned. He also knew, the boat had not been stolen and that neither of their names would be tied to it. Mistakes like this were not Hannibal’s style at all. And so he had gone along. Will offered to help Hannibal on board – an offer that had been politely but firmly refused – stored away their bags. Talking Hannibal into putting on a life jacket had been a challenge in itself, but one Will had won.

He opened his eyes when a shadow blocked his sun.

“Put your life jacket back on, Hannibal,” Will said without missing a beat, looking up at Hannibal, who had emerged from below deck wrapped in a olive green parka protecting him from the wind. Instead of doing as he was told, Hannibal sat down to Will’s left.

“I assure you that I know how to swim,” he said. Will was unimpressed.

„I do not doubt that, but you also have spent the last three years mostly confined to a single room, then got a hole shot through you from back to front. You may be better than last week, but you are not well. Also you won’t be swimming after you hit your head on the railing while falling, which is a real possibility.”

“I have been on boats before, Will,” Hannibal assured him. Will raised an eyebrow in response.

“Having a fancy barbecue on one of your high society friends yacht is not the same as sailing open water. Also I would be disappointed in you for dying because of vanity after what we both survived up until now. I know they are uncomfortable and look stupid, but I am sure so was your plastic murder suit.”

Hannibal said nothing for a while, his gaze roaming the horizon. Will knew an answer would come when Hannibal had finished whatever thought occupied his mind, not a moment earlier. Instead he concentrated on the smooth finish of the wooden tiller beneath his right hand, the lacquer new and flawless. It would warm under the sun in a few hours, feeling alive and reassuring. 

“This is important to you,” Hannibal finally said, shifting minimally on the stiff wooden bench. Will kept his body relaxed. Neither of them was going to leave anytime soon, he reminded himself. He let out a breath he had not noticed he had been holding.

“Keeping you alive is important to me. We talked about the cliff and any… rash decisions that may have been made that night. I have crossed this ocean once before with no one but myself for company and I do not plan on repeating that experience. It was lonely, thought I did not care about that particular detail at the time. I had more pressing matters on my mind, not all of them entirely clear to me. The point is, I do not want to do this alone and I do not want to see you dead anymore.”

Will did not look at Hannibal and let out a sigh.

“Take the tiller,” he said when he stood up, not looking back to see if the other man did. When Will came back on deck a few minutes later he carried not only the abandoned life jacked, bit a pillow and a woolen blanket – and Hannibal sat in Will’s former spot, doing an almost convincing job at not looking lost. Will took a moment to take in the rare display of Hannibal being out of his depth, then made him scoot over and dropped his load on the mans lap.

This time, he did not need to harass Hannibal into the jacket. He even accepted the blanket and pillow, wrapping himself up further. Will failed at keeping the amused smile off his face, but got serious again when he spoke.

“This trip will take a long time, and that with everything going smoothly. Things may go wrong, one or both of us could get hurt or sick. The fewer ports we have to stop in the better, but that means you need to learn how to sail as soon as possible. Not right away, you are not well enough for it, but soon.”

Hannibal, now comfortably warm, leaned back in his seat.

“I trust you to get us to Argentina eventually, Will,” he said, head tilted just a fraction. If not for being buried under a shapeless lump of parka and blanket, he looked as much at ease as in front of the fire in the study in his old home in Baltimore. Will blinked to shake of the memory. Hannibal could get used to any kind of environment, he was sure.

“As much as I enjoy the idea of having you completely at my mercy, Hannibal, the trip will be easier with your help.”

“And you will be an admirable teacher,” Hannibal said with a tilt of his head. Will snorted.

“Only if you actually do as I say and don’t get yourself killed due to some stupid rookie mistake. Like refusing to wear a life jacket, especially when not completely steady on your feet.”

“I apologize for that. Your reasons are completely valid. I promise to wear it.”

Will’s face softened and he patted the spot between them in invitation.

“Good. Now come here. You know how to navigate with a compass? Following your course needs a bit more concentration than on land with the water looking the same in every direction.”

They would make it, one way or another, Will thought as Hannibal scooted closer. And they had enough to talk about to not get bored on their journey. Like where Hannibal got that damn boat and why he had not told Will about it until the night before.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see me rambling about writing and a lot of random blogging, visit my [tumblr](http://cucumber-of-doom.tumblr.com/) because that's where the cool kids are.


End file.
